Dragon Age: Torchwood - Clips
by Bloodsong 13T
Summary: Short Clips from my DA:TW crossover. May contain Spoilers! and/or non-canon. See notes if you care. 1: Jack and Bannon stranded in a desert. 2: Things Never to Say to Your Boss when You Work for Torchwood. and vice versa.
1. Wild Wild Torchwood

**Wild, Wild Torchwood**

_CONTENT:_

Rating: Teen

Flavor: Humor

Era: indeterminate

Canon: no

B&Z Spoilers: none

Language: bad

Violence: a little

Nudity: none

Sex: some innuendo

Other: none

Gratuitous Jack Deaths: 0/0 (nah, he was just unconscious or something)

_Author's Notes:_

This is a totally made-up nonsensical interlude that is completely ripped off from my favorite scene from "Wild Wild West." Why? Cuz it's funny!

Bannon is my city elf character from Dragon Age, who got dumped through the Rift and got stuck working for Torchwood.

* * *

**Wild, Wild Torchwood**

===#===

Jack gasped and sat up, his hand going to his throat. There was some huge metal collar around his neck. "What the hell?" He looked around at the dusty verge at edge of the cornfield. No one else was here, except Bannon, who was busy trying to pry off his own collar. Jack levered himself to his feet. "Where is everyone?"

"He took them."

"Well we can't sit around here all day!"

"We're trapped inside this circle"

Jack looked at the dusty ground. There was a line drawn in it, in a circle around them. And that's all there was. "What, this?"

"Don't cross the line!" the elf insisted.

"This? This is what has us trapped here?" It looked like some kid with a stick had made it! Jack scuffed it with one boot. "Oh, look, I dug us a tunnel out of this prison."

"Don't-!"

Jack stepped over the stupid line. "Now I am escaping. This was some prison." He turned and glared at the useless elf.

Then his collar started beeping. Something rumbled behind him, shaking the ground. He looked back to see a door slide open in the earth, pebbles and sand drifting into the black rectangular hole. A flat-barreled cannon rose out of it and swiveled to target him. It revved like a rail gun preparing to launch a projectile.

"You know, maybe we should ru- Bannon?" Jack turned, but there was nothing but an elf-shaped gap in the cornrows. "Oh, shit!" He tore off after the elf.

Something whistled through the air behind them, gaining rapidly. There was a wet buzzing as cornstalks were sheared off. Jack dared a glance over his shoulder. Two manhole-cover-sized metal disks were flying after them. His collar beeped faster. "Duck!" He followed his own advice and one of the disks flashed over his head. He heard the other one behind him, cutting low. He dove to the dirt, face-first. "Do you have to be so short?" he yelled in complaint.

Bannon scrambled to his feet and cocked an ear. "Shut up. They're coming back."

"They're homing in on us!"

"Split up!"

The captain and the elf broke and ran in opposite directions. This was not helping. At least the things weren't silent, and the beeping in his collar warned him when they were close. Jack ducked and switched directions again.

He skidded to a halt when he found himself on the edge of a steep ravine. He saw green stalks flying up on the other side. "Bannon! Over here! This way!" He glanced back, trying to figure out how many seconds he had.

His attention was drawn back by a shout. The elf almost pitched into the ravine. "What the hell?"

"Quick, leap into my arms!"

"Are you out of your fucking shem mind!?"

"They'll collide; just do as I say! On three..." Jack hoped he had the timing down right. He counted to three and leapt across the ravine. Bannon gamely jumped out towards him. They collided in mid air; Jack had aimed a little low, so he caught the elf's chest in his face.

They plummeted together and landed in a sluggish river of mud with a mighty SPLUT. The two disks collided and fragmented in a small explosion. A huge chunk fell and cracked Bannon over the head. "Ow, dammit!"

"Well, that's what you get for landing on top."

===#===

They managed to get out of the mud and found a dry, rocky gully. They trudged along beside the low river, hoping there was a way out sooner rather than later. They still had to figure out how to catch up and rescue the others. If the others weren't already on their way to rescue them.

Jack was caked in mud up to his eyebrows. He'd managed to clear most of it off his face, though his cheeks bore long diagonal streaks. His coat was soaked through and had dried in the hot sun until it seemed to be made of stiff cardboard.

Bannon had doggedly kept his top spot in the muddy river and had used Jack to climb out of the muck, so his head and shoulders were clear, except for the crimson streak of blood down the left side of his face. The lower half of his long hair was clumped into muddy dreds.

Jack looked over at him. "So what's your plan for getting this thing off my neck?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, that's why I keep you around. Since you're the Master of this Escape Artist stuff."

Bannon stopped and turned to face him. "Oh? Now I'm the 'Master of this Escape Artist Stuff'? As opposed to five minutes ago, when I was calmly and rationally trying to figure out how to spring these things, but then, oh, I don't know, something happened... somebody, some poor, sad, idiotic fool who shall remain nameless-" and here, he belted out Jack's name until it echoed off the ravine walls: "JACK HARKNESS...! -just didn't listen to me, and he went tippy-toe, dancey-dance over the line I told him specifically _not to_, which precipitated our vigorous romp through the Cornfield of Doom, ending in the death-defying leap into the Pit of Infernal Muck!"

Jack scratched his nose for a second. "You know, I think you need to calm down."

"No!" Bannon flapped his arms emphatically. "I can't calm down! Because I'm the Master of this Escape Artist Stuff! And I have to help you! You- the Master of the _Stupid_ Stuff!" He cast about a moment, looking for any type of helpful tool. "I- Well, I can't shoot this thing off you, because I don't have a gun! And I don't have my knives, so I can't whack your head off and pull the collar off your neck; that would have worked fine!" He twisted and pounced on a brick-sized rock. He lifted it beside his head. "Here we go, I'll just bash it with a rock!"

Jack held up his hands. "You really don't want to do that."

"Oh, _yes I do!_"

Jack tried to backpedal, but the elf leapt at him and smashed him in the neck with the rock. The projecting lip of the collar sheared the stone in half, and the metal rang with a mellow tone. Jack flinched as a chunk of rock bounced off his head, then suddenly, Bannon jumped up against him. The collars clashed together with a dual metal clang. "What the hell are you doing?" Jack backed up further, but the elf was stuck to him.

"What did you do?" Bannon demanded, face reddening.

"I didn't do shit!" The elf was so much shorter than he, that his feet weren't even touching the ground. Jack kept dancing around, off balance, until he leaned forward and bent his knees, so the elf's toes at least could touch down. "You're attracted to me."

"The hell!"

"Look, you dumbass, you hit my collar and reversed the polarity of the magnets, and now we're stuck together!"

The elf's eyes flew wide, and he actually shut up for a second. He looked up at Jack in trepidation. "That had better be part of your coat poking me!" He shoved against Jack's stomach, and the captain shoved him back, but they were stuck fast at the neck.

"Wait a minute," Jack insisted, grabbing the elf until he stood still. "Look. Get your knee up between us and push off."

Bannon's eyes narrowed.

"Don't you even-!"

_SCHRUNCH!_

"AUGH!" Jack's legs buckled as the elf brought his knee up alright. "You son of a...," he managed to squeak out.

"Oops," Bannon said, completely unapologetically. The elf wriggled until he got his right leg folded up between their bodies. He tried to straighten it, while Jack pushed against his shoulders. Little by little, the magnetized collars separated. Jack shoved a hand between them, hoping he didn't lose any fingers.

With one last heave, the two men managed to fling themselves apart. Bannon fell on his backside in the dust. Jack swayed backwards, caught himself, then overcompensated. He pitched forward, his head dragged straight to the elf's midriff. His collar clanged against Bannon's hip as he fell between the elf's legs.

"AOW!" It was the elf's turn to groan in agony.

"Sorry," Jack lied unconvincingly. He tried to get up, but found his neck stuck to the elf's pelvis. "Who," he complained, "has a steel belt buckle? You couldn't just have brass, like everybody else?"

"I do have a belt knife hidden there," Bannon grated, still wincing. "It's a push-knife built into the buckle."

"Well, great." Jack fumbled under the collar to try to reach it. "Hold still, I'm going to unbuckle your belt, then I think I can get away from you. I hope," he grumbled.

"Will you watch where you're putting your hands!"

"Don't get excited."

"Trust me, captain; getting fondled by you is hardly enough to get me excited."

"Well, we don't have time for anything else." Jack leered a moment just to annoy the elf. Then he grimaced, trying to get the tongue to come loose from the prong. "It's stiff," he complained. "The leather, I mean."

"Jack... when we get back to the Hub and we're telling this story... leave this part out, wouldya?"

"Hah! I might just have to hold it in reserve against your good behavior." With some more cursing, and the captain got the belt to come free from Bannon's pants.

"Give me the knife," the elf said. "We can use it to cut off your head."

"You're not cutting my head off with a push-knife!"

"Why not?"

"Because! Besides, it's thoroughly stuck to my neck." Jack stood up, careful to back away from the elf. The belt dangled from the collar like a bizarre couture necktie. "Now get up, and don't get too close to me."

Muttering and grumbling, the elf did so. They stumbled a little further along the riverbank. "Oh, look," Bannon said, pointing into the mud a couple yards away; "there's my spare toolkit. It must've fallen out of my pocket." He looked around. "Find some stick or something to reach it with."

Jack edged a bit closer. "What about that?" he said, pointing across the elf's line of sight, more towards the river.

"What?" Bannon turned, and Jack- careful not to get his head or neck anywhere too close- planted a boot in his backside. He kicked out and launched the elf into the mud. "AIAGH-glack!" He shouldn't have had his mouth open when he hit. Bannon reared back, sputtering and spitting out muck.

"Can you reach it now?" Jack asked him mildly.

"You sonofabitch!"

"Well, can you?"

In fact, he could. Bannon grabbed his kit and slogged back out of the mud, muttering imprecations. Now he was properly mud-packed from head to toe, and Jack could feel smug that he'd come out marginally cleaner. Even if the margin was so slim as to barely exist.

===_X_===

* * *

_End Notes:_

1000 Bloodsong Points if you recognized the "Don't get excited" exchange from 'The Empire Strikes Back.'

5000 Bloodsong Points if you know where the stiff leather belt joke is from... especially since I'm not sure. I *think* it's from 'Ice Pirates.'

PS: You know, after Gordon and Jim's leap of faith into the Pit of Infernal Muck, I don't recall them being muddy as they have this argument in the ravine. Score a point for me for realism!


	2. Things Never to Say to Your Boss---

**Things Never to Say to Your Boss when You Work for Torchwood**

_CONTENT:_

Rating: Mature

Flavor: Humor

Era: DATW Season 1

B&Z Spoilers: mild through Book I

Language: bad

Violence: some

Nudity: no

Sex: discussed

Other: no

Gratuitous Jack Deaths: 0/0

_Author's Notes:_

This is not a list; get away from the Report button. There are actual example scenes.

Another attempt to avoid the plague of Marysuism (is that now a word?). And to stop Jack whining that Bannon always gets the last word in. Um... yeah, so I didn't mean for part 3 and 4 to happen. Sorry, clever elves, you know. But that's okay, because sequels happened! Enjoy.

===#===

* * *

**Things Never to Say to Your Boss when You Work for Torchwood**

**1.**

Jack stood at the head of the conference table, gripping the chair back before him. Tosh's marked area map glowed over his shoulder. "Gwen, you'll go 'finesse' the police; make sure we've got all their reports. We don't know how fast this thing spreads, so Ianto, Owen, Tosh; you're on neighborhood canvas duty." Gwen nodded, the others showed various degrees of annoyance with their legwork, especially Owen.

"You two," Jack said, lifting his chin at the elves, "are sanitation workers."

They groaned, and Zevran said, "Why is it we are always the slaves? Never the rich, noble bastards."

"Because you're short," Jack cut them off. "And you can maneuver better in the sewers."

"Why do we have to-?" Bannon started

"You do what I tell you, and you don't argue. Now keep your mouth shut until after the briefing." Jack turned to the map display to outline his deployment strategy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bannon reaching for his phone. If those two started texting, he was going to discipline them, like the naughty schoolchildren they were.

A moment later, his phone blipped with an incoming message. Jack ignored it until after he finished the briefing. As his loyal troops were filing out to get to work, he glanced down at the two succinct words on the screen: 'U suck.'

He looked across the table, meeting Bannon's eyes. "Yes." He let a smile spread across his face. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. And I'm _really_ good at it. You want to get some?" He smiled all the more toothily and was rewarded when Bannon's face reddened. The elf turned away and left hurriedly, apparently having no further comment.

God, he was a pain in the ass.

===#===

**2.**

Jack kept his hands unclenched upon the desk, his voice even and steady. "We are not opening the Rift," he told the glowering elf standing in his office. "It's far too dangerous without precise calculations."

"How is Toshiko supposed to get anywhere with it, if she can't experiment?" Bannon argued.

"She needs to finish the Rift predictor program."

"What about sending us back?"

"That's not a priority."

"Yeah, for you," the elf said bitterly.

"Torchwood's number one priority is protecting the citizens of this planet," Jack reminded him with an edge to his voice.

"And your number two priority is getting free elven labor, is that it?"

"Hardly," Jack said dryly. "And your expenses in no way qualify as 'free.' But hey, if you want to try your hand at flipping burgers and mopping floors, I'm sure you could manage to qualify for that job."

Bannon's expression darkened. Clearly, he didn't appreciate the captain's humor. "Fuck you, Jack!" He turned and stalked out the door.

A snarl wrinkled Jack's lips as he pushed himself up from the desk. Swiftly, he moved around it and caught the door before it swung fully closed. He shoved it open and leaned out to yell at the retreating elf. "Hey, any time! But you keep telling me I'm not your type!"

Bannon whirled around, his face suffusing with anger. Everyone else in the Hub had fallen silent; Ianto at his coffee machine, Gwen and Owen standing by the couch, Zevran lounging on it, Tosh peering up from her workstation.

The silence was broken by a strangled little giggle. Slowly, Bannon turned towards the assassin. "Are you snickering at me?" he asked in a deadly tone.

Zevran had cut off the noise by expeditiously sucking his lips into his mouth. Now he relaxed. "Well...," he drawled, leaning back with casual abandon; "I believe the only correct answer to that inquiry is-" In a flash, he launched himself off the couch and down the spiral stairs.

With a growl, Bannon pursued.

Zevran vaulted the rail two-thirds of the way down, hit the floor in a roll, and scarpered across the open area. Bannon seized the handrails like parallel bars and swung himself down. By the time he got to the floor, Zevran was dashing up the steps to the concrete overlook. Bannon bent and scooped up the basketball. He hurled it full force at the assassin, who ducked at the last moment, causing the ball to bounce off the painted dragon's nose.

"Ha-ha!" Zevran crowed. "Another Archdemon slain!"

With an invective, Bannon continued pursuit of the blond elf around through the Hub.

Jack sighed in exasperation and shook his head. Those two were a pain in the ass.

===#===

**3.**

"...an old pork chop, slathered with strawberry jam ought to work," Jack was saying, swiftly outlining the plan to his colleagues around the conference table. "If not, we can try baiting it with one of our luscious, juicy elves." He grinned flirtatiously at them.

Zevran smirked. Bannon, of course, snarled. "Drop dead, Harkness."

"Already have done."

"Encore."

Pain in the ass elves.

===#===

**4.**

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" Jack told Bannon an hour or so later as they heaved the Traxodont's limp body into the trunk of the SUV.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"You ruined another one of my coats!"

"It's just jam," the elf grated as he folded the last of the beast's six limbs into the truck. "Besides, you smell more like an old pork chop than I do."

"You're still a pain in the ass," Jack argued, trying to dust off his sticky hands.

"Gee, that's tempting," Bannon said, looking far too sincere. Then he spat, "But you're still not my type!" He turned and disappeared around the passenger side of the SUV.

Jack growled, and made his way to the driver's side, still trying to wipe off his hands. Damned elves. Smartass elves. That's what they were. It's a good thing they came in handy in tight places and dangerous fights.

===#===

**Things Never to Say to Your Elven Employees when You are the Boss at Torchwood**

===#===

Jack moved quickly along the edge of the rooftop, his Webley held low in a straight-armed shooting grip. He scanned for movement between the exhaust vents. Zevran and Bannon followed, long arrows nocked on their hunting bows.

Jack spotted movement and keyed his comm. "Gwen, Owen, it's heading in your direction." Something clattered along the rooftop to land at his feet. _Thermal detonator._ "Take cover!"

He reversed direction and started running. The two elves were quick and agile enough to turn and sprint away, but the problem was, the only cover was the roof's retaining wall- with a 35 storey drop on the other side.

Jack dove at the elves at the last second. He meant to throw them down and shield them with his body as best he could, but the blast caught them all and launched them over the side of the building. _Dammit!_ Jack had a split second to think. _What a crappy ending to a really crappy day._ Of course, he couldn't complain; the elves had the worst of it- they'd die.

Or not.

Zevran claimed to be extremely lucky, and maybe there was some truth to that: the elves slammed into a window washing scaffold parked at the top floor. Jack twisted, landed half on Bannon, bounced off, and hit the corner of the rail. Just as he did, there was another crash as the force of the explosion tore one supporting strut off the side of the building. Jack felt a moment of weightlessness as the scaffolding dropped away under him.

He scrabbled to grab on to something - anything - but it was tipping away from him. At the last second, he managed to grab a bucket that was hanging from the lower rail. Or he hoped it was hanging, because it didn't stop his freefall - the rope attached to the handle was zipping out between the bars of the scaffolding floor.

He caught a glimpse of the elves clinging to the grating. Zevran made a grab for his partner; Bannon hung onto the front rail. Jack gripped the rim of the plastic bucket, probably hard enough to leave indentations in it. With a jerk, it stopped and snapped him into a gentle swing back and forth. He looked up only to see that the knot that had caught the end of the rope between the grating and the frame was unraveling from the pull on it. "Help!"

The loop of the knot slipped, and the ripe fell loose from the scaffold. Jack kicked his legs helplessly and sucked a breath to scream. Just then, a hand snatched the rope and twisted it around a bracer-clad forearm. Bannon had caught him.

"Don't drop me!" Jack yelled, wishing he didn't sound so panicky. He really hated pancaking. He also realized the elf would probably dearly love nothing more than to drop him and let him splatter all over the pavement. Best not to give him ideas. "Get me up!" he yelled with more authority. Well, a little more authority. He really wished he could stop bicycling his legs, but they seemed to have a mind of their own. _Come on, there's nothing here to stand on! Show some dignity!_

Bannon twisted and said something to Zevran. The elves shifted, and Bannon's head and other arm joined his left between the scaffold rails. Veins and tendons stood out on his forearms as he started to haul Jack up, hand over hand. Damn, he was strong.

"Get me up!" Jack yelled encouragement. His left leg kicked out with renewed enthusiasm. "Come on, come on! Get me up!"

"I _am_ going to drop you," the elf grated through clenched teeth, "if you _don't stop saying that!_"

Jack clenched his jaw, and then concentrated on crossing his ankles to see if that would stop his legs from swinging.

Bannon hauled him within reach, though Jack wasn't about to give up his deathgrip on the bucket. The elf reached down and clamped a hand around his wrist. He made sure it was Jack's arm, not the coat, that he was digging his fingers into. Jack winced, but was grateful. It would be doubly ridiculous if the elf ended up with his coat as he slithered out of it.

Bannon pulled. Jack reached up with his free arm and clamped it onto his bicep. He could see Zevran above them, both arms stretched out and trembling with the strain; one hand claw-hooked into the grating, the other fisted around Bannon's belt.

Jack's legs kicked out again, searching in vain for something to stand and boost himself up on. He and the elf grunted and strained to pull him up. He made a snatch for the harness holding the elf's quiver. It was empty, and Jack was grateful none of the arrows had hit him on the way down. And lord knows where the bows had gone.

"It's a good thing you're not a really big, tall shem," Bannon grunted from where his face was squashed by Jack's chest; "or this would be _really_ difficult."

"Shut up," Jack grated back, "and- WAIGH!" The elf had gotten a fistful of his trousers and yanked, giving him a serious wedgie.

"If you two don't stop flirting," came Zevran's strained voice; "I will drop the both of you!"

===#===

**Jack Strikes Back**

===#===

Well, nothing could clear out a strip club faster than a rampaging Hoix, Jack thought as he looked around the sadly empty room. Owen was becoming quite the expert Hoix-wrangler. Jack let him haul the thing into the SUV. He crossed over to the raised platform where Zevran and Bannon were peering down at a five-foot square pit filled with clear liquid. It looked like water, but small items - pocket change, a comb, a condom packet, a plastic drink coaster - were suspended in it, neither sinking nor floating. They appeared frozen in time, and the elves stared with puzzled fascination.

Jack climbed up next to them. "It's a lube-wrestling pit." They looked at him, even more puzzled. "You know: like mud wrestling, but you get to see more."

They returned to staring down at it. "So this entire pool," Zevran said, "is filled with..."

"Sexual lubricant, yes."

"And people get in here...," Bannon continued the musings of medieval minds.

"And wrestle." Jack grinned. "Try it. Take off your shirts and get in." Oh yes, slicked up elves!

"You get in it," Bannon growled.

"It looks rather cold," Zevran said dubiously.

"Oh, come on," Jack griped. "It's not. Not anywhere near as cold as you two wrestling on the floor of the Hub and falling into the tidepool." Which, heh, had happened on more than one occasion. They gave him a sour look. "I could take both of yas," he goaded.

Bannon glanced at his partner, his look turning decidedly more evil. Zevran turned his eyes to Jack and snickered. Leave it to the damned elves to ruin a perfectly good plan to lasciviously exploit them!

"Yeah?" Bannon said. "Get in. Drowning in massage oil; that ought to be fun for you. Hey, does it burn? We could set you on fire at the same time."

Jack bristled at the callous disregard the elf had for his life - or rather, his deaths. "You know, fuck you, Bannon."

"Not in this lifetime."

"Oh? Well, next time I revive, it's a date then."

The elf snarled and gave him the two-fingered salute.

He smirked. "Hey, if that's the position you like, you know I can accommodate you."

_That_ scored a hit on the elf. He reddened and snarled all the more. Bannon hopped down from the platform and headed towards the door, Zevran a few steps behind him, shaking his head.

Jack turned and sauntered after them, his hands in his pockets and an insufferable grin on his face.

===_X_===

* * *

_End Notes:_

2000 Bloodsong Points if you recognized the exchange from _Red Dwarf_. I love that bit, and Rimmer even gets a decent comeback. Probably his only one in the show. Actually, probably the only one in his life... :X

You can take 500 Bloodsong Points if you recognize the Dr Who episode I stole the rooftop scaffolding idea from. ;X Uh, I don't remember what it's called, but it's the one where Donna gets back together with the Doctor.

Not worth any points, really, but I saw the lube-wrestling on CSI: NY.


End file.
